An Extra Tribute

-unexpected plans-

I click the four and it's a quick trip down. To be frank, I'm surprised we fit in all that talking in the time it took to get up here. I quickly head into the space and make a beeline for my room. A few avox maids help me undress and I slip into simple black leggings and a light blue comfy shirt that says 'District 4'. I remove my makeup with a cleanser they provide, but the glow I experienced with it on is still so present. It must be in the skin care they applied. I easily sneak around the kitchen, grabbing a few buttered biscuits wrapped in a napkin and a bottle of watermelon juice before making my way to the elevator again. I quickly hit the button that says 'roof' and begin my journey up. Huh, I think, they really don't want to talk about District 13. They won't even put it in the elevators.

The trip is short, yet seemed like forever for some odd reason. I finally made it to the roof and went to go sit by the garden, but before I could turn the corner, I saw someone sitting with their arms resting on the bordered edge. I could barely make out the figure.

"Peeta?" He looks over at me and smiles.

"Noah," he says. "Hi." I sit next to him and unwrap the biscuits.

"Want one? I skipped dinner," I say. He shrugs and takes one of the four, chewing on it slowly.

"What are you doing up here?" I ask.

"Cinna showed me. He just left. I thought I'd stay and just... think," he replies.

"What about?" I inquire.

"Well, about this whole thing. How wrong it is. How the Capitol just makes us players in a rough game. I don't want to be a piece in their game! You know? Well, I'm sure you do. You have to do it twice," he furthers. I nod.

"Trust me, it's not fun. To have to kill other kids who are just as much victims in this-"

"Well, except the careers," Peeta argues. I shake my head.

"No, especially the careers! They're hard-wired to think that this stuff is good, that it's honorable to come home a murderer. It's not! I should know, I was one of them. I thought that the best thing I could do was beat Finnick, become the best - the youngest ever victor. Yeah, they may think it's cool, but it's not. It's not fun, it's terrifying. The fact that I could do such a thing at age 13, and make it out alive, is scary. The fact that I wanted to in the first place," I shudder, "is terrible. And so many kids are made out to die for glory! But, it's not glory they receive. It's PTSD and mental and physical health issues. Like Annie! Scarred for life, literally. And then, the Capitol and President Snow make it even worse by using you for public affairs and your whole life's a mess." I let out a breath as Peeta simply looks at me with understanding. I shake my head.

"I'm sorry," I say, shaking my head and looking out over the city. I hear Peeta shuffle next to me as he repeatedly says "no". His hand rests on my arm and I look up to see him looking at me with a serious look yet soft eyes.

"No, there is no need to be sorry. This is what I was talking about. They've wrapped us all up so easily into this mess, and it's despicable. They make it look like an honor to kill, but really, it's an emotional death sentence. I'm sorry you have to do it twice," he says. I smile sadly.

"I'm sorry you have to go through it too," I reply. He laughs bitterly, turning away.

"Oh, I'm not making it out alive," he says. "I wanted to talk to you about that."

"About what?" I ask.

"I want both of us to focus our efforts on getting Katniss out of there alive. I mean, we've both decided that we're going to die, why not get her out?" He asks. I hold up my hand.